1 82 CENTURY OF ENGLISH FOX-HUNTING 



are masters of me." With a fine temper, nice hands, 

 and a sympathy between himself and his horse that 

 rarely has been equalled, he never irritated the 

 animal he was riding, but would coax it into seemly 

 behaviour by the use of his tongue. He used to talk 

 to his horses, but one of his own lines can express 

 his feelings better than any words of mine, viz. " Are 

 you not a horse and a brother ? " 



Those who knew him will remember his favourite 



expression, " What d d fools men are ! " He had 



experienced the follies of youth when as a subaltern 

 he gambled at Crockford's, and could sympathise in 

 late years with those who allowed the excitement of 

 gambling to gain the victory over discretion. Indeed, 

 it was his sympathy in every path of life which 

 endeared him so much to all whom he came across. 

 He could even smile indulgently at the transgressions 

 and foibles of people in the hunting field, though on 

 occasions he could be sarcastic, as when a hard 

 funker once jumped a fence about three feet high 

 he wondered what the height would be after dinner. 

 His warmest admirers would not call him a bold 

 rider, and he did not hesitate to express his contempt 

 for reckless horsemen and thrusting scoundrels. Yet 

 few men knew the science of hunting better than 

 he did. His father had been for many seasons 

 Master of the Fife Foxhounds, and he had been 

 entered to hounds as soon as he was out of the 

 nursery. To the last moment of his life he cherished 

 a strong affection for his native country, and if he 



